I never liked that phrase… “Stuff happens.” Especially the R rated version, “Shit happens.” And yet, lately, I find myself saying it on a semi-daily basis. Mostly because it’s true. Sometimes "shit" does happen.
For example, my geriatric Labrador likes to sleep on the floor beside my bed. She wants to be as close to me as possible at all times, no matter where I am. She refuses to move just because there is an obstacle in her personal space. So when Indiana Jones, the puppy, decided to stand above her—his back legs against her side and his front paws reaching onto the bed—she failed to move an inch. She held her ground even as he passed gas directly above her face. It was a classic juvenile gag, and I admit it, I laughed.
My laughter was short lived.
Unfortunately for Cybil, Indy didn’t just fart. He was suffering from a mild case of diarrhea that day, and in a brilliant stroke of bad luck, he experienced a brief moment of anal leakage at the precise moment that he farted on Cybil’s head.
Thank goodness for baby wipes and fast thinking. If I had been anywhere but at the scene of the crime, I may have had to deal with a mess of tragic proportions. As it was, I just had to clean up poor Cybil, and then I headed straight to the vet for a prescription for Indy.
Fast forward to today. After eating the most perfect wings ever the night before, I decided to tempt fate and order the same wings again tonight. I know…eating out two nights in a row? I have no excuse. I’m getting groceries in the morning. In hindsight, I should have gotten groceries today. There is just no way to compete with perfection. As good as tonight’s wings could have been…they were no match for last night’s, and therefore, I was disappointed. I should have left well enough alone and ordered a burger…or better yet, a salad! But shit happens!
Shall I go on?
I was at the vet again today for the second day in a row, and I actually told my vet that I should get a multi-pet discount after paying the bill for Cybil's prescriptions and vaccines. The good news was that all three dogs have now had all of their shots and yearly check-ups, and Cybil's incontinence is cured!
But, just when I thought I was through swiping my debit card at the vet for a very long time, Henry Chow came home this evening with teeth marks in his arm.
Say it with me... “Shit happens!"
Who knows what has decided to take a bite out of my ninja kitty, but I certainly can’t leave him to rot or fester from the wounds! Thank goodness Henry was up to date on his shots! While I’m there tomorrow, I may ask the vet for a bigger discount. After all, I did give her office their best laugh in a long time with the tale of Indy and the fart. Or as my teenagers explained to me…the proper term is “shart.” I doubt I will find that word in my spell checker or even in a proper dictionary, but I will take their word for it, just the same.
I suppose I can only keep to my prior commitment to seek the positive in everything, and take this string of seemingly unfortunate incidents as excellent blog material. After all…I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried!
Until the next time…I’ll be looking forward to the next thing to happen, (I write this thing every night you know!)